Don't Call Me 'Daddy'
by charminghitler
Summary: Destiel college AU- Dean has got a thing for his professor, but Cas has got an issue with the age difference. Student!Dean, Professor!Cas Rated M for later chapters.


Don't Call Me 'Daddy'

"Shit," Dean murmured, pressing his palm against the siren of an alarm clock seated beside his bed, "Seriously? Fuck Sammy for giving me this piece of crap for Christmas.." Dean drawled off, cursing angrily as he began to hazily peel himself off of his mattress despite the sheets taunting him to stay a few minutes longer, and instead gave way to a wide yawn.

Today was the first day back to school- or, well, college. Dean was now a sophomore in that daily shit show, 20 years old and as undetermined as ever.

The only upside, was one of the professors. Well- as much of an upside as it could be, Castiel- or uh, _Mr. Novak_, was a little under double Dean's own age at a crusty 38 years old. Dean wasn't into the man, no, the guy was simply easy on the eyes- nothing more to that bullshit. He made class a little more bearable, not that he'd ever admit that to anyone. Well, not that he'd really even _have_ to. Most of his friends already cooed in Dean's direction the moment he entered Mr. Novak's class- which was English, and even Jo would send him the occasional wink after he'd answered a question for the teacher, an effort which he hardly ever gave in to.

Dean worked his way into the shower, allowing the hot water to drown off all the ground up sweat and dirt that still clung to his body, scrapping his nails against his lush skin to pry off any remaining grime. He had actually joined the baseball team, which some days he considered it more effort than it was worth, but he was very talented with a bat, be that impressive or worrying. He entwined his fingers with the milky soap, sighing as he relished in the musky scent of the cleaner. Practice has been shitty, as always, but it just felt nice to finally get back into the swing of things.

"_I wonder if Cas has thought about me at all.." _His mind trailed off, corners of his lips raising up in an absentminded smirk at the nickname he had given the professor. _"Cas"_ never let Dean actually get away with the pet name, but just seeing the man tense up at the formality made it that much better to call him it.

Cas had just joined the school last year, yet he already had the exhausted and almost _used_ sense of teaching air to him, like he'd been working there for 15 years rather than 15 months. He wasn't a bad teacher, not by any means, it was just at first glance the man was best compared to a cooling soup. All the flavors were there, just the ambition- or rather, _warmness_ was missing.

Dean quickly shook the thought from his head, it wasn't like the teacher would ever give him the time of day anyway. Not that dean didn't deserve it, because hey, lets wake up and smell the fucking roses, the kid was hot. Or- rather, the _adult_ was hot. Shit even after two years it still felt weird to say that. Anyway, Cas was very much against relationships with younger students, in fact, he often talked down on them like they were misguided children, rather than legal adults. Dean sighed, it was probably time to get over this stupid infatuation, the older man only noticed Dean up until the bell sounded, and then it was just as though he were another paper to grade, that instead of it being _"There goes Dean",_ it was _"There goes Mr. D+."_

Dean dressed himself in something that was actually a _small _step up from his usual attire- some tight black jeans and a new band shirt, to which he rolled the arm cuffs up on to give it a slightly more finished look. The first day usually didn't mean shit to him, he'd normally go looking the way he always did, sure, he liked to impress, but it was pointless to crank it a notch up when he already had looks that could kill. But, today felt a little different. He was aiming to impress a different crowd- or different _person_. The years prior he never had to be ready for an attractive teacher to peer up from his clip board, call out the name _"Dean",_ and look all about the room until his eyes lazily fell on the enticing student. Or, at least, that's the way Dean would have everyone belie it went. He was after all, a chick magnet. Or in this case, a hot older man magnet.

No. Scratch that. That just sounded weird.

"Alright, let's see what shit we'll get into today." He muttered, grabbing his backpack full of the same junk as last year.

_Dean Winchester_ didn't need to impress anyone. He didn't _need_ to, but it looks like he was going to try whether he'd admit it or not.

* * *

><p>Dean entered the classroom with a slight hint of nerves, his body felt suddenly less motivated than it did on the way up to English class, with his friends jokingly greeting him, punched him in the arm, fucking up his hair, same of stuff. Before there had been a much more playful and easy mood, a happy one even. But, now he was all alone, and his legs were screaming at him to get his stupid, angsty ass in there and just get the stuttering shit over with.<p>

"_C'mon Dean, no need to be a pussy, just walk in there like you always do. Enough of this 12 year old shit, buck up."_ He barked to himself, trying to sooth his situation in the manliest of ways.

He hesitantly walked through the doors, eyes immediately falling on the professor at the front of the room, not even paying any attention to the steady stream of students, as he adjusted some papers with his eyes anchored down to his work- like fucking _always._

Dean groaned, and immediately deflated. He'd been picturing this moment in his head for the last few days- _he'd walk in the door, looking like his usual bad ass self, run his hand through his hair as he __**innocently **__looked about the room, greeting a few friends as he did so. He'd pretend not to notice the way Mr. Novak would peer up from his desk and get the slightest tint to his cheeks, and he'd ignore the fact that he clumsily dropped the stack of papers he'd been holding in his awe inspired haze. Cas would look away from the student quickly, hair a mess and brows knotted together as he tried to keep his cool- something he was usually so good at. Dean would finally "notice" the teacher, and stride over with a sickening confidence, offering the professor some help. He'd kneel down despite the teacher insisting it was alright, and he was in fact "just a bit tired from the lack of sleep he'd gotten the night prior", and help collect the papers. He'd reach out for a paper at the same time as Cas, their hands would brush and Cas would snap his hand back, cheeks flickering like a flashlight about to run out of battery, and slowly meet Dean's own eyes, just to-_

"-Winchester, _Dean Winchester_!" The teacher called, looking pointedly in Dean's direction.

"H-Huh?! What?" Dean called back, being snapped from his haze as his eyes suddenly focused on Castiel, who was in turn peering back with a perplexed look on his face.

"The bell has rung and class has started. Please go and take a seat." He said calmly, as a few of Dean's friends laughed from about the room.

"Oh- uh, yeah. Yeah, got it." Dean stumbled quickly, pointing in the direction of the rows of chairs. "Seats, right." He made a point to walk calmly to a chair and hunker down in it, as if the entire incident wasn't embarrassing but just simply that- _an incident. _

He figured he had gotten away with it, class had picked right up after Mr. Novak shot another confused look in the student's direction, before he began his introduction to the class. _Blah blah blah, English and assignments_, shit Dean couldn't even bother listening to. He instead settled on staring in Cas' direction for the sake of, well, staring at Cas. Dean, despite being an adult, still had the hormones of a teenager.

Dean realy had thought he'd gotten away with it, staring and all, up until he felt a balled up piece of paper hit him in the back of the head, drowning out any attention he actually had invested into the already dull lecture.

Dean leaned over, plucking the note from the floor, and sprawled it out on his desk.

"_Can't take your eyes off of his ass, can you? – C.B." _

"Fuck you, Charlie." He muttered, crumpling the note back inside of his pocket, before he swung his body around to flip off the girl just a few rows above him. Mature. Real mature.

Rest be assured that Charlie wasn't the only one who had noticed the staring, as Castiel had squinted his eyes in the student's direction and made a mental note to see if the strange behavior continued throughout the year- which, knowing Dean, it would almost undoubtedly would.


End file.
